Bundle of Joy
by Zoop
Summary: One-shot. A woman tries to make a getaway, but is stopped by an Orc.


**A/N: This is what erupts from the Zoop after a day-long migraine...**

* * *

Merewyn had hardly reined in the carthorse in front of her home before she was leaping from the wagon's buckboard and hurrying inside. So much to do, so little time. Her husband would be home soon; might he have heard? The apothecary's tongue wagged about town with too little restraint. She assumed he knew, and would likely abandon his work and be on his way home to see about it.

A large sack was easily found in the cupboard. Merewyn hastened to the bedroom and yanked wide the wardrobe doors. Heedless of what she was snatching, she filled the sack with clothing. Then she all but ran back to the kitchen, dropping the sack by the front door on her way.

Her trembling hands threw open the larder door and shook open a smaller sack. She was stuffing it with half a bread loaf, a wedge of cheese, and a few pomegranates when she heard a ragged chuckle. Whirling about, she screamed when she saw who'd laughed.

Lounging unconcernedly in the back doorway was an Orc. His lean form was clad in dark leather breeches and black muslin tunic. Heavy leather boots shod his feet. Arms crossed over his chest, he regarded her with a smirk on his face, his head tilted to one side.

"Whatcha in such a hurry fer?" his voice grated. An old scar across his throat revealed the cause of his harsh, coarse voice. Not a hair adorned his head, and his batlike ears hung with rings.

Grabbing the first thing that came to hand, Merewyn lobbed a raspberry tart at the Orc's head. He lazily deflected it.

"You gave me such a fright!" she cried.

"C'mere'n I'll give yuh more'n a fright," he growled, leering provocatively and cupping his privates.

"I'm in no mood for you," she warned, and returned to her packing. In her anxious haste, she dropped a jar of pickles on the floor where it shattered, spraying sharp-smelling juice all over the hem of her skirts and covering the floor with glass shards. "Dammit!" she swore.

"Where're yuh goin'? Yuh just got back," the Orc asked, a note of worry in his voice. She pointedly ignored him. He frowned as he watched her every move. "Somethin' happen?"

"Not that it's _your_ concern," Merewyn snapped impatiently. Tying the sack closed with a short cord, she blew out the back door, forcing the Orc to press into the doorframe as she passed lest he get knocked aside. Bewildered, he followed in her wake as she hurled the sack into the back of the wagon and hurried around to the front door where she'd left her clothing.

"Slow down!" he protested, grabbing her arm to halt her. Merewyn slapped at his hand.

"Haven't you done enough?" she cried, wrenching her arm free.

"The fuck's goin' on?" the Orc barked, this time grabbing both of her arms and forcing her to look at him.

She stared into his face for several moments, seething and trembling. Then she closed her eyes and bowed her head, feeling drained. "I saw the apothecary."

"What's 'at mean?" He loosened his grip, but didn't let go.

"I am... with child."

He blinked, struck speechless for a moment. She lifted her chin and glared resentfully at him. Licking his lips nervously, he ventured, "Whose...?"

"It could be no other's," she hissed. She easily freed herself from his slackened hold, but did not flee. Instead, she hugged herself and turned partly away. "I should've... I _could_ have... I just didn't think... And now I'm too far gone to..."

She quickly covered her mouth, but a sob escaped. Tears she'd been too frightened and in too much haste to allow filled her eyes. She didn't protest when the Orc gathered her in his arms and guided her to his shoulder. Gripping him tightly, she let the tears come.

"There now," he rasped, stroking her back. "Dâglarg's got yuh. Gonna be all right."

"How _could_ it be?" she breathed. She clutched the back of his tunic in her fists. "What am I to do?"

"Yuh had the right idea," Dâglarg assured her. "Gotta just run."

"Oh... oh my," Merewyn gasped, pulling from the Orc's arms. She quickly brushed the tears from her face. "I must go. He'll be home... any minute now. I have to go."

"Hold up now," he told her, raising a clawed hand. "Yuh ain't goin' nowhere." He ducked his head to hide the pleased grin that kept fighting to show itself. "Not without me, anyways."

Merewyn hesitated a long moment. "You would... accompany me? I thought... Wasn't I just... a whim? A novelty?"

His face hardened and his brow arched. "Was I?"

Her chin quivered and her eyes filled once more. "No."

"Then I think we'd best get on 'at cart, then."

She didn't protest his aid as he gave her a hand up onto the buckboard, nor did she take the reins from him. Dâglarg snapped them across the gelding's back and clucked his tongue as he'd seen her do countless times, and the cart lurched into motion. She didn't look back.


End file.
